


Late Night Revelations

by writesthrice



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Fake AH Crew, First Kiss, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22031221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesthrice/pseuds/writesthrice
Summary: Ryan is up late in the Crew's penthouse, trying pretty desperately to finish some work, but he's worn out. Geoff pops in for a second, and well. Can you blame him? Ryan's just so pretty...
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Gavin Free/Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones/Jack Pattillo/Geoff Ramsey, Ryan Haywood/Geoff Ramsey
Comments: 7
Kudos: 83





	Late Night Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooo. Hey guys, I'm still alive. Here.  
> *hands over fic*  
> *runs*

Ryan stood up slowly, stretching and rolling his stiff shoulders, letting out an involuntary groan at the feeling. A glance at the clock showed nearly 2 a.m., and he let out another groan, this one of disgust. He shut his laptop with an unsatisfying click. Gavin could pick up where he left off, combing through the hundreds of files they'd recovered from their target's home, trying to track where he'd run to. 

Ryan was done. The Vagabond didn't do anything less than his best. And his best was  _ the _ best.  _ This _ was on the verge of crossing into subpar, his exhaustion weighing his mind down.

Almost as if he'd been waiting, Geoff came into the little conference room, a bottle of water in one hand, looking casual in a dark tee and faded jeans.

Ryan hoped that water was for him, because his mouth was abruptly desert-dry, heart up in his throat at the sight of one Geoff Ramsey looking so domestic. His dark hair was a mess, shadows under his eyes, heavy stubble where he hadn't bothered to shave yet. God, what a beautiful sight.

The longing in his throat was immediate, and consuming. 

And his best kept secret. 

The Vagabond was part of the FAHC,  _ sure _ . But he still did his own thing, keeping up that old  _ lone wolf _ shtick. It was safer, for him and for them.

Danger was already a constant in their lives, but if someone thought that there was anything more than professional affection between them? All bets would be off. Even the small time criminals would crawl out of the darkness to take their shot at ransoming their way into the spotlight with a quick kidnapping. 

As for the rest of the crew, well. This was one secret he would be keeping, that his devotion to them ran deeper than Crew loyalty. 

That he, terrifying spectre of the notorious Fake AH Crew, who had the fortune  _ and _ misfortune of working with the most beautiful and deadly men in Los Santos, and was very much in love with, not one of them, but  _ all _ of them, was not something he was going to share over Mario Kart.

It certainly made things difficult for him. He had to watch himself, keep close control of all of his urges, to touch, to watch, to protect. There was a deep awareness of the others, always; he could pinpoint their exact locations in a room with him without even looking, knew the different sounds of their breathing, could distinguish their footsteps from a crowd. 

At least some of the side-effects of his attraction were helpful in their line of work.

"Done for the night?" The older man asked, bringing Ryan back from his musing, and setting the water at his elbow as he passed behind him to go around the table, patting Ryan's shoulder to budge him out of the way. 

"Yeah," Ryan answered, sounding as normal as always, composed, his face as much a mask as the black skull folded into his pocket, though he wanted to lean  _ into _ the other man's touch, even as he shifted  _ away _ to make room. He was quick to uncap the water and swallow some down.

"Me, too," Geoff said, falling into his customary chair at the head of the table and leaning on his elbows. He looked at Ryan with tired eyes, and dropped his face into his hands, sighing heavily. He mumbled something between his fingers, but it was too muffled to make out. 

"What was that, Geoff?" Ryan asked, taking a few steps towards his boss, wanting to help, to comfort. 

"I said, 'this isn't going well'," Geoff growled, but it had no heat, just a vulnerable weariness.

Ryan grunted in agreement, then took another couple of steps closer to Geoff, putting them in reach of each other.

"No, but we'll figure it out. Our heist plans never start smoothly - well, they never  _ end _ smoothly, either," he interrupted himself with a grin, "but we figure it out. Give us _some_ credit, O Fearless Leader."

Geoff gave a half chuckle at that, but kept his face hidden, pressing his fingers against his tired eyes and ignoring the offered reassurances.

Ryan dared to reach out, wrapping his hand carefully around the nape of Geoff's neck and giving him a light squeeze, thumb tracing lightly back and forth.

At his touch, far,  _ far _ more intimate than he'd really meant to do, Geoff looked up at him, blue eyes a little too wide, and far too serious.

Ryan's heart was back in his throat, and his voice came out as a gentle whisper, "We'll be okay."

They stared at one another for a long moment.

Geoff surged to his feet, knocking his chair over with the force, and Ryan raised his hands defensively, face burning red as he backed away.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean-," he babbled.

"Shut up," Geoff snapped at him, mouth pulled into a tight, thin line, brows furrowed.

Ryan's heart was pounding against his ribs. He'd overstepped, and now everything was ruined. The crew he thought of as family, the safety here, with them, and this, this man in front of him that he'd follow willingly into hell and back, it was all gone. 

All 'cause he fucking caught  _ feelings _ and couldn't keep his damn hands to himself.

Geoff took a step toward him, and Ryan backed up further, wanting to turn tail and run, but pinned beneath the intense look in his friend's eyes.

"Am I," he licked his dry lips, "am I in danger here?" It came out sadder than he meant it to.

"Oh,  _ fuck _ yes. You are," the older man growled, backing him up all the way to the wall, and crowding him into the corner, tattooed forearms pressing around him and hemming him in, bodies close.

Ryan's breathing was too fast, hyper-aware of the knives strapped to his side, the gun in his side-holster, but knew that he could never  _ imagine _ hurting this man. Whatever Geoff was about to do, whatever way he was going to hurt him, kill him, he would not fight back.

"Geoff," it came out strangled, pleading. He wasn't sure what he was asking for. 

"Hush. Look up."

He swallowed, resigning himself to his death, and raised his eyes so Geoff could cut his jugular more easily.

A finger brushed lightly along the line of his jaw, down his throat, and to his collarbone. 

The noise he made was very high pitched.

He did not move.

Hot breath brushed his Adam's apple, and all the hair stood erect on his body.

When Geoff's lips pressed into the underside of his jaw, he couldn't stop his hands from flying up and grasping the older man's waist like a lifeline. 

"G-Geoff? What?" He couldn't form a full thought, much less translate that into words.

"Kiss me."

Apparently Geoff was not having that problem.

Finally, Ryan tore his gaze away from the ceiling and looked down in shock at his boss, who stared back with defiance in his eyes.

Geoff was a man used to getting his way, and Ryan was used to giving him what he wanted, so.

The ruthless Vagabond ran his hands up the fearsome Kingpin Ramsey's slim body, gentle, gentle, fingertips light on pale skin as he held his face and tilted the older man's head back so he could angle in.

It was a quick, chaste thing, a brushing of lips against one another, followed by a soft inhale.

Intoxicating.

The two of them surged together, and Ryan's mouth covered Geoff's, nothing chaste in this kiss, hands dropping back to the older man's waist and pulling their bodies flush together, hard, Geoff's hands gripping Ryan's shirt like he'd pull away if not held. As if.

He licked his way into Geoff's mouth, the way he'd fantasized about in his most private moments, and tasted him, toothpaste and Diet Coke and just  _ him _ and Ryan let out a growl.

His hands dropped down, curled under Geoff's thighs, and he lifted the other man, who promptly wrapped his long legs around Ryan's waist, his arms around his neck.

They didn't break their kiss even as Ryan stumbled forward and dropped Geoff on the table, hands sliding up a little to cup the other man's ass. When he squeezed, Geoff finally pulled away, a breathless half-laugh ghosting across his lips.

"God damn. Am I interrupting?" Jeremy's voice was far too smug. 

Ryan froze, heart hammering against his ribs. There was no way Geoff couldn't feel it, too, the way their chests were pressed together.

The fear washed over him, unfamiliar in this safe home. 

"I mean,  _ fuck _ ," Jeremy continued, just striding into the conference room. "It  _ looks _ an awful lot like I'm interrupting."

Geoff laughed easily, his hands closing in fists in Ryan's shirt, thighs and long legs tightening around him and keeping him in place.

Like it was  _ normal _ . Like it was  _ okay _ .

"You're an asshole, Lil' J. And yeah," the older man leaned forward, running his lips lightly along Ryan's jaw, "You're interrupting. I'm about to  _ ravage _ this man."

When Geoff pressed a kiss to Ryan's mouth and he didn't respond, or even move, he pulled away with a frown, eyebrows drawing down in confusion.

"Rye?"

He was frozen. Couldn't move. Had no idea what to do. This was a Bad Idea. 

Ryan looked to Jeremy, wanting the man to shout, to question, to protest; instead he'd taken a nearby seat and kicked his heavy boots up on the table like he was gonna  _ watch _ .

A gentle hand patting his face brought his attention back to Geoff. "Hey, buddy, what's wrong. Is this not okay? Talk to me."

Ryan opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Jeremy was at his side in a moment, hands also on him. "Battle buddy?"

He looked at Geoff, the worried frown he was wearing, then down to Jeremy, at the distress on his face, and was just.  _ Overwhelmed. _

All he could think of was one of them tied to a chair and bleeding in a dark room while some faceless enemy cut off bits to send to the Fakes, their kingdom crumbling around them as they came to heel like beaten dogs. Tears raced down his face, hot as spilled blood.

He twisted away from them, seeking distance like it would help him regain control of himself.

"Ryan!" Geoff's terrified shout was loud. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," his voice was tiny, strangled in his throat, and barely recognizable.

"For what? You've done nothing wrong! Ryan," Geoff slipped around in front of him, gently taking hold of his wrists and tugging his hands away from his face. "I didn't mean to scare you!"

Ryan choked on a laugh that became a sob. He truly didn't deserve this. "You didn't  _ scare _ me," he retorted, though it was only half-true. He gestured between them, " _ This _ scares me! What if you get hurt?!" It came out rougher than he'd intended, louder.

The rest of the crew appeared at that point, alarmed by Geoff's initial shout, and stunned now by Ryan's. 

Jack had a sawed off shotgun in his hands, teeth bared in a fierce grimace, while Gavin peeked over his shoulder, unarmed and only in boxers and a too-big shirt with his hair flat and mussed from bed. Michael appeared a second later, chest heaving from a sprint, holding more guns than strictly necessary, even in an emergency.

Jack's eyes scanned the room, checking for threats, before landing on the three of them in the middle of it. He uncocked the shotgun and demanded, a little exasperated, "It's like two the Goddamn morning. What the  _ hell _ is going on?"

The whole room was frozen, Ryan's wrists still held loosely in Geoff's hands.

"I kissed Ryan," Geoff blurted, guilty.

There was a collective inhale, almost gasps from them.

"Oh, fucking Christ, Geoff," Jack scrubbed his free hand over his face. He was exasperated, but somehow unsurprised. "Don't you have an ounce of self control?"

"He kissed me back, Jack!" Geoff answered, heated. He turned his eyes up to Ryan's, that same challenge in them from earlier, his chin tilted back. "Didn't you?"

Ryan hesitated, no longer on sure footing here. Everyone was reacting differently than they should have been. But he nodded, a soft, "yes," pulled from him. Not like he could deny it, with what Jeremy saw.

Jack let out a little sigh, rubbing his forehead. "A conversation  _ beforehand _ could have avoided all of this extra bullshit, but better late than never, I guess," he muttered, then added, louder, "Alright boys, sit. Time for a Crew meeting!"

They all took their customary seats, Geoff having to pick his up off the floor, and settled down. They were watching Ryan with differing levels of concern and interest, and it was making the fear roiling in his gut much worse. Jeremy put his hand on Ryan's elbow, offering a quiet, encouraging smile. 

All it did was make his heart race faster, but the sentiment was much appreciated.

Jack knocked lightly on the table, drawing their eyes. "Okay. I think we should start with the Big Thing, then fill in the blanks. Sound like a plan?"

Nods all around, though Ryan remained stiff and confused.

"So, Ryan," Jack brought everyone's attention to him. "Have you ever heard of polyamory?"

A moment of stunned silence from Ryan. "You're all … fucking each other?" 

There were chuckles all around. 

"Yes, but it's more than that," Jeremy cut in, his face red. "We're a proper relationship. We … uh. We're in love." He coughed a little, embarrassed to have been the one to say it, but everyone else was nodding along in support, and Gavin reached across the table to squeeze Jeremy's other hand with a wide smile.

Ryan sat back in utter shock. "Since  _ when _ ?"

Jack grinned at the wonder in his voice. "Since before you joined. Though we added Jeremy sometime after."

"What?!"

They laughed a little, though not unkindly.

"We're very,  _ very _ careful," Geoff added, reaching out to take Michael's hand, the closest one to him. Their fingers laced easily together, and Geoff brought their hands up to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the younger man's knuckles.

Michael blushed, glancing at Ryan from beneath his eyelashes, vulnerable in a way the older man had never seen. "We didn't know how you'd react," Michael said, looking away.

"Oh," Ryan's voice came out small. "I would never hurt you, you know."

"We know that, buddy. We were going to tell you soon. Geoff jumped the gun," Jeremy grinned at him. 

They all laughed at the indignant noise their fearless leader made. "Okay, yeah, but in my defense, he's _so_ _pretty_! Look at him!" Geoff gestured wildly at him. All eyes went back to Ryan, and everyone nodded, as if, yes, that is a very good reason.

Ryan sputtered, squirming under the gazes of his friends. They had never really  _ looked _ at him like that. Or, they had never let him see it, at least.

"How many people know?" He asked, floundering to redirect the conversation away from himself.

"Just us, B-Team, and, now, you," Jack answered quickly. 

His next question came out quieter, like it was its own secret, "Are you scared for people to know? Are you scared of what … might happen?"

They were all looking at him again, something soft and understanding in their faces.

"Lovely Ryan. Is that what  _ you're _ scared of?" Gavin's voice was full of affection and lacked his usual mocking tone.

Ryan could only nod.

Jeremy pressed into his side, a hard hug that took him off guard. "Only the Goddamn Vagabond would be worried that we would get hurt. The rest of us are hunted by the FBI, too, you know?" The short man scolded, lips turned up in a smirking grin.

"Yes, we are worried about people trying to use the Relationship against us," Jack cut in, actually answering Ryan's question. "We're criminals, like Jeremy said. Sometimes we come home hurt, and there's always the possibility one of us won't come home at all. But we are careful, we watch each other's backs, and we communicate  _ a lot _ . We take care of each other."

"Stitches are easier to take when someone holds your hand," Geoff joked.

" _ All _ of it is easier to take when someone holds your hand," Michael added.

Ryan looked around at them, just completely baffled by these incredible men. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest, full of love for them. He wasn't hiding it this time, just let the care for them be bare on his face.

Geoff and Jack shared a look, then Geoff reached out his free tattooed hand, palm up, to Ryan.

"Ryan Haywood, I would like to extend a formal invitation to you: how do you feel about getting to know us a little better, in the context of this new revelation? Would you go out on a date with us?"

Ryan raised his shoulders in confusion, "How does that even work? A date with six men?"

Jack laughed, but Gavin answered, "We'll rent out the swankiest restaurant, dress up in our finest suits, and no one will bat a flipping eye. We  _ own _ this town, Rye-Bread, it'll just look like regular power-play from the outside."

"But on the inside, it'll be power-bottom play," Michael joked with a sly glance at Gavin, who squawked indignantly and flushed, but did not deny it.

And then  _ that _ brought up some images of its own.

Ryan swallowed, looking down at Geoff's hand, waiting so patiently. 

"Okay. Okay, yeah." He laced their fingers together, mirroring Geoff's other hand with Michael.

After a heartbeat, Jeremy grabbed his other hand, then reached for Jack, who grabbed Gavin, who grabbed Michael's free hand, so they were all linked. Ryan could have laughed; it was a ridiculous look, like they were about to pray over a meal or something, but his whole body felt lighter. 

The fear was still there, but not so heavy a burden under so many extra hands.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't figure out a way to put it in without it being stupid, but Michael's harmful of guns that he grabbed when he though they were being attacked? Unloaded. All of them. He'd been cleaning them to unwind before going to bed, and when he heard Geoff shout he grabbed them ALL in a panic.  
> So.  
> Not helpful.
> 
> Also Gav's in one of Jack's tees, just a little detail.


End file.
